Happy Happy Birthday Baby (for crimsonandjesus)

[di_monty_pippin]

Monty eyed the contents of the tray critically before lifting it and heading carefully for the stairs. Strawberries, pineapple and other fresh fruit together with a dip made from whipped cream, vanilla and cinnamon. Pastries. A small vase with pink rosebuds and baby's breath. And, because a birthday girl deserves a little excess, champagne

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[crimsonandjesus]

First thing in the morning on her birthday - twenty-seven, thirty's getting closer every year - Lo is half-awake and lazing, reluctant to come out of her sleep-daze into proper consciousness just yet. She's only been back at home a short while, and she's still settling in.

...Monty's voice persuades her to open her eyes, though, and she wriggles around until she can peer out from underneath the blankets at him, tousled hair in her eyes and a little smile making its beginning. "Honey!" she trills, letting the blanket slip when she moves towards the edge of the bed. "Did you really? Oh, you did!"

[di_monty_pippin]

Monty grins, his sense of theatre well-satisfied by his wife's reaction. Grand gestures can be so much fun. "Ah-ah-ah. You stay right where you are, my lovely, and I shall come to you." The tray finds a temporary home on the dresser before Monty dutifully plumps and arranges pillows for Lo to recline against.

That task done, he heads for the door. "Back in a tick. I couldn't manage the wine cooler and the tray at the same time." In short order he races back down the stairs and returns with the the champers, which he deposits next to his side of the bed. "There you are. Refills for the asking."

After carefully settling Lo with her tray, Monty fills the spare glass he brought for himself and joins her on the bed, moving carefully to avoid a) spilling his wine, b) upsetting any of Lo's breakfast and c) crushing the contents of his pockets. "All right, love?"

[crimsonandjesus]

It's not quite an answer to his question - when Monty settles with her, Lo sips her champagne and tells him, "You are the sweetest thing." Because there are endlessly and unchangingly pragmatic parts of Lo, in the back of her mind she's thinking about the breast pump and how much milk she has stashed, how many glasses of champagne she can get away with. Of course, mostly she's beaming at her husband and trying to guess what he's hiding in his pockets.

The pale pink strap of her slip slides down her shoulder, as if on cue, and she presses a lipstick-less kiss to his temple. "I can't believe you surprised me!" Actually, she can, but it just wouldn't do to let on. "Where's Rome? What are we doing today?"

[di_monty_pippin]

The migrating shoulder strap does not go unnoticed, and Monty is quick to intercept Lo's lips for a good-morning-birthday-girl kiss before he answers her questions. "Rome is busy being spoiled by his grandparents and uncle today." Perfect Tom might be the older brother, financial wizard and Member of Parliament, but Monty was the first to provide a grandchild. He's earned some much-needed parental points there.

"As for today's schedule, I have today off, so we are doing whatever and going wherever your heart most desires. I stand ready to take you out to restaurants, shops, dancing, the West End, or whatever sights you might like to take in, and generally perform any other tasks you require done."

Monty gives a lingering nuzzle to the spot her shoulder strap used to occupy, no doubt offering a clue as to what he hopes some of those tasks might be. "The day and your husband are entirely yours, babe. Your wish is my command and all that."